Molly's Christmas Carol
by jennyj90
Summary: Inspired by Charles Dickens' A Christmas Carol. Visiting Molly's Christmases past, present and future.
1. Chapter 1

**I've used Charles Dickens' ****_A Christmas Carol _****as inspiration for this story. ****It's a little bit different, but I hope you like it. As always, the characters belong to Tony Grounds. I'll do my best to update it regularly. Please R&R! Thank you!**

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><p>"Marley was dead, to begin with ... This must be distinctly understood, or nothing wonderful can come of the story I am going to relate."<p>

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><p>Molly cowered behind the rock as shots began firing. The howl of the bullets flying so closely overhead was enough to send a shiver down her spine. The adrenaline of the situation was both thrilling and terrifying. Situations like this were what her career was based upon, yet they never got any easier.<p>

She looked across to her fellow soldiers, all similarly hiding behind whatever was available in the wilderness that surrounded them. The insurgent wasn't going to give up easily and they all knew it. None of them wanted to be shot, but they knew better than to disobey orders. The corporal had instructed them to wait out, so that was precisely what they were doing.

She heard her corporal shout "Rapid fire!" and so she lifted her L85A2 assault rifle and aimed at the enemy. She tensed her body, bracing herself. This was a fight for survival.

"Get down!" The corporal shouted once more.

Molly ducked down, the rock becoming her safe haven from the next round of bullets. She couldn't understand the instructions that were being given. They weren't trained to hide, they were trained to fight. Yet they weren't being allowed the opportunity. Captain James' words entered her thoughts "I follow my orders and I trust those higher in the chain of command to see the bigger picture." She had to believe in it… she had to.

The others were all staring, wide-eyed. They were feeling the pressure too, waiting for the moment to react. Molly looked to her corporal, looking helplessly for a sign that would never come. Somebody needed to do something, or else they'd be there all day, hiding from the shots that would never end. Molly closed her eyes for the briefest second, fighting between right and wrong. She never was very good at obeying orders, but she needed to muster the courage to be the one would do something.

She moved herself up on her knees, just high enough to raise her weapon. The voice in the back of her mind was reminding her that she was only the medic and her orders were to wait out. But one final glance at her corporal's terrified face was all of the encouragement she needed. She had to do something, and fast. She lifted herself to her feet and aimed.

The sound of a gunshot enveloped the area that encircled them. It was deafening, unlike anything she'd known before. An odd stillness was suddenly created, causing Molly to become all too aware that perhaps all wasn't what it seemed. She patted herself down, feeling for an injury. She could move her fingers, wiggle her toes. Was this what death felt like?

The air turned cold, nothing alike the Afghan heat she'd become so accustomed too. It was bleak, biting. She held her arms to her body, hugging, squeezing herself in an attempt to hold in some warmth. Her lungs filled with the icy air with each breath she took.

"Molls," a familiar voice resonated behind her. She turned sharply, looking for the source. Her eyes scoured, hunting for figure of her best friend.

"Smurf?" she pleaded. She missed him so much. It had been two long years since he died, and not a day passed where he wasn't in her thoughts. If she could see him now, even for just a brief moment, it would bring her so much happiness. "Smurf?!"

"You muppet, what d'you think you're playing at?" Smurf appeared from nowhere, his voice cutting through the cold, to fill her heart with warmth. The air swirled around his feet in an almost magical way. He was walking with a long stride, seemingly confident. Molly found it comforting that he didn't seem at all worried by the situation.

"You Welsh wanker, I thought you were dead?" Molly shook her head as soon as the words left her lips. Of course he was. She was there when he collapsed and was taken to hospital. "Am _I_ dead?"

"Merry Christmas, Moll," was Smurf's only response.

"You're kidding me, right? You choose this precise moment to wish me a merry fucking Christmas?"

"You chose this moment when you decided to break cover." Smurf's face was solemn, serious. The expression was all too familiar. He was on a mission, concentrating on the task at hand.

"Am I dead?" She asked again, but this time with more hesitation, a tremor in her voice.

"Not yet."

Molly stood in silence, her eyes flickering with the temptation to close. She didn't want to break contact though; part of her fearing that Smurf would be gone before she could re-open her eyes. The other part of her knew simply that tears would stream down her cheeks the second she allowed, and right now, that wasn't an option.

"Not…" she choked. "Yet?"

"I'm gonna take you on a little journey, Molls; through Christmases past and present, to the Christmases yet to come. I think it's important that you see this."

"Smurf, this is the middle of a bloody war zone. Whatever bullshit you're on about will have to wait, cos right now I need to shoot that insurgent before he kills all of us."

"You don't have a choice, Moll."

Smurf held his hand out, gesturing for Molly to take hold of it. Not so much in obedience, as in surprise and fear; she reached forward. Warmth emitted from the touch, before slowly stretching and spreading throughout her body.

She turned to look around but simply saw everything slowly fading away. She began following in Smurf's path with desperate curiosity, until exhaustion overwhelmed over. In an instant, Molly's eyes closed and sleep took hold of her.


	2. Chapter 2

**Thank you for all the lovely reviews so far!**

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><p>"No space of regret can make amends for one life's opportunity misused"<p>

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><p>When Molly awoke, it was dark, and she had little recollection of the events prior to her falling asleep. She reached for her duvet, wanting to pull it closer and savour whatever shut eye she was able to. Instead, she found herself fumbling through emptiness. Her eyes sprung open, before finally her mind caught up with her body. Her heart rate quickened as her memories reappeared.<p>

She glanced at her body, finding herself standing on a carpeted floor. A clock chimed to signal twelve. Wherever she was, she now knew it was midnight. She rubbed her eyes, desperate for them to adjust to the darkness and allow her to see where she was.

Another chime sounded and it was quarter past. Perhaps she'd fallen back asleep. Apparently not, as another chime, half past; then another, quarter to. What was happening?

A flash of light filled the room and suddenly it was daylight. She squeezed her eyes shut, thrown by the sudden brightness. A few deep breaths later she cautiously re-opened them, unsure of what to expect. The scene that surrounded her was familiar. It was her family home, but not how she knew it to be now. It was decorated how it had been some years previously, with ghastly curtains and wallpaper. Her mum had been so grateful when it was re-decorated during Molly's teens, she couldn't quite fathom why she would revert it back.

Before she had the chance to consider her mother's thought process, a child - perhaps about ten years old - ran past her feet, oblivious to her presence. Molly watched as she ran through to the lounge, before deciding to follow her.

"Here, Molls, help me set the table!" Belinda called over. Molly smiled, but without the chance to respond, the young girl reappeared and began placing cutlery on the table.

Molly stepped closer, the realisation hitting her with enormous force. She was looking at herself.

A young Jade stormed in and sat with Dave in front of the old, battered television. She was the picture of innocence, suffering from nothing more than a childhood tantrum.

"Do you remember this day?" Smurf asked, appearing beside her.

"Course I do. It was the best Christmas ever."

"Why?"

Molly watched on as her younger self went over to her sister and pulled her to her feet. Within seconds they were both dancing to their own music. They were always so close, best friends as much as sisters. Soon enough their laughter filled the room.

"Cos it was just us then. They had Bella a few months later and then they just carried on having kids after that. Martin was their sixth; it was no wonder mum was cream crackered half the time. Then Dad lost his job and got depressed and that; and then he started drinking. It all just turned to shit."

Smurf watched Molly, emotional as she reminisced. As her eyes dried, he once again held out his hand for her.

"Walk with me."

Unwilling to argue, she took hold of it and followed him out into the harsh winter air. The ground was frosted, but no snow had fallen. As they strolled along the streets of her childhood, she saw things changing. Time was changing. Street lights flickered, seemingly more aware of their existence than any of the passing pedestrians.

They walked for some time before turning a corner to face Molly's former school. It was exactly how she remembered it, the same 1960s tower with peeling paintwork and graffiti covered walls.

"Why are we here?" Molly asked with some trepidation. School wasn't exactly one of her fondest memories; far from it in fact.

"You spent every single day avoiding this place. You failed your exams cos you never showed up. Yet here we are. It's Christmas Eve, the school's shut and look who decided to turn up."

Molly watched as her teenage self merrily wandered through the school gates and behind the aging bike sheds. She bowed her head shamefully. The memory of this day had tortured her for many years. It had been such a turning point in her life, the beginning of what was to become a downward spiral.

"Oi oi, Dawesy! Back of the Indian and the school bike sheds!" Smurf said with a teasing nudge.

Molly playfully punched his arm in return. "It weren't like that, you bell end."

They walked around, following the path she had walked all those years ago, until she caught sight of her younger self. There she stood, swigging alcohol from a bottle with the confidence of someone much older. Beside her was a boy, only the year above her if she remembered correctly, smoking a cigarette and ogling the scantily clad body beside him.

"What the fuck was I wearing?" Molly shook her head after eyeing up the short skirt and high heeled boots. Her barely developed chest was squeezed together and pushed upwards in an embarrassing attempt to create cleavage. She'd only just begun dying her hair blonde that year, and the appearance was less than impressive. Molly grabbed hold of her now naturally brunette locks and ran them through her fingers. "This suits me better."

Smurf reached out for her hand once more and guided her back through town. The daylight was fading now, and yet again, Molly observed the slight changes of time. Before her very eyes a whole tower-block was built. She knew in reality it had taken months, but there it was, created in mere seconds.

They approached her Nan's old house, a council maisonette not dissimilar to her parents', but undeniably smaller. It was a strange sight, but a familiar one.

They entered the building, their lack of physical presence enabling them to cross the threshold freely. They walked along the dreary hall, glancing through the open door beside them at the poorly furnished room. At the far end, the whole family sat at the table. It was decorated with candles and laden with an immense buffet.

"Nan nicked some moody food," Molly explained, although Smurf didn't appear remotely interested in what she was saying. Instead he approached the sixteen year old Molly, and slowly crouched beside her.

"You look so sad and lonely."

"It weren't like that. It was just a shit time for me, that's all. I started work soon after this and I was fine."

"Fine, eh?" Smurf raised an eyebrow of uncertainty, before grabbing Molly's hand and whisking her away from the house. This time they ran at some speed, rushing along the high street before coming to a grinding halt outside the nail bar where she used to work.

Seventeen year old Molly was working late on Christmas Eve. It had been a busy day with plenty of last minute bookings, and she was ready for bed. She waved good night to her boss, informing him that she'd be asleep before the springs hit the floor. That probably would have been true had Artan not showed up.

"Come away with me, Molly," he demanded through his drunken voice. She pushed him away, watching as he stumbled into the rain filled gutter.

"Fuck off!" With her head held high, she made her way along the pavement, heading in the direction of her home; her impractical heels clicking with each step.

It wasn't long before a car crawled up beside her, the male driver clearly after one thing only. She ignored him, but another soon followed suit. She never responded, enjoying the attention that she was getting, and the power she felt at the frustration it caused them when she simply disregarded them.

Artan caught up with her, placing an arm around her shoulders and holding her so tightly she couldn't move.

Molly flinched, aware of the pain her younger self was experiencing. "Why are we watching this, Smurf?"

"Cos you said you were fine, Moll. So I'm showing you that you weren't."

"Ok, fine, maybe I wasn't. Are you happy now?"

Smurf took her hand and led her across the road. Molly wasn't aware of much around them changing, but the Christmas lights that had adorned the buildings and the space overhead, had all but disappeared. She frowned with curiosity, but chose not to speak. Instead, they stood in silence, until they saw the younger Molly heading towards them; her heels barely allowing her enough movement to walk.

Right before them a yellow car pulled up, the passenger inviting her to come to a party with them. She seemed keen, prepared to jump in the back as they'd instructed. As much as she'd maybe wanted to, she instead she'd found herself doubling over, vomiting at the feet of her future self.

It was difficult for both Smurf and Molly to watch. Unable to offer any comfort they were left with no choice but to watch on as she steadied herself against the glass fronted building she'd found herself beside.

"The army careers office," Molly muttered, before turning to Smurf. "This was my birthday. I thought we were visiting Christmases, not bleeding birthdays and all."

"It's just this once because I thought you might need reminding of this day. It was the last day of the old Molly Dawes. Before the past becomes the present."

"Oi! Oi! Don't you wanna fuck me?!" The younger Molly called as the car sped away.

"Take me back, Smurf. Take me home. I don't wanna do this anymore."

"But where is home, Moll?"

Without waiting for her answer, Smurf took her hand into his once more. Molly became conscious of a sudden exhaustion. She gave Smurf's hand one final squeeze, before her grip relaxed. Overcome with irresistible drowsiness, she sank back into a heavy sleep.


	3. Chapter 3

**Sorry this chapter has taken a few days to upload, but I wasn't happy with what I'd initially written. Thank you again to everyone for the kind reviews, they really do mean a lot to me :)**

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><p>"There are some upon this earth of yours,' returned the Spirit, 'who lay claim to know us, and who do their deeds of passion, pride, ill-will, hatred, envy, bigotry, and selfishness in our name; who are as strange to us and all our kith and kin, as if they had never lived. Remember that, and charge their doings on themselves, not us."<p>

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><p>Molly awoke mid-snore, stretching her body as she did so. Slowly, she sat herself up in bed, and gathered her thoughts together. She looked around the room, comforted by the realisation that she was back at home. The bedroom she shared with Charles was decorated with tinsel and fairy lights. She concluded that the only explanation for such a tacky sight was an attempt to cheer her up. Why that would be necessary she didn't know, but it certainly worked.<p>

She swung her legs out of bed; taken aback to find that she was already fully dressed. Maybe she'd had a few too many drinks the night before and that was why she couldn't remember anything. It was Christmas after all; of course she would have been celebrating.

She felt a relief knowing that all of those visits to the past had been nothing more than a dream; but saddened that she wouldn't see Smurf again. She'd thought her days of grieving were over, but seeing him again had brought back all the hurt and pain she'd gone through when he died.

Making her way downstairs, an incredible smell wafted around her. She followed her nose, sniffing her way through to the dining room. The table was piled high with a feast of food. Turkey, potatoes and all kinds of vegetables - half of which she couldn't name. Charles had obviously invited his parents over for Christmas lunch as there was far too much for just the two of them. She couldn't help but reach down to steal a roasted chestnut. Yet to her confusion, her hand travelled straight through the bowl.

"Welcome to Christmas present," Smurf said, causing Molly to jump with fright.

"Fuck sake." Molly said, placing her hand to her thumping chest. As her racing heart slowed, she held her hand out expectantly; but Smurf refused to take it. Instead, he turned towards the table, gesturing for Molly to do the same.

Soon enough, Charles strolled into the room carrying a huge jug of gravy and a jar of cranberry sauce. He took a moment to admire his handiwork, before taking a seat alongside his parents.

Molly turned to Smurf. "I don't understand? Where am I?"

"You're on tour, remember?"

Molly felt saddened, watching as Charles carved into the turkey. The food of course looked amazing, but as did he. Caught up in the war, she rarely had the opportunity to miss him. But seeing him there, dressed up warmly in his Christmas jumper, brought a tear to her eye. She'd do anything in that moment, just to feel his arms around her and the warmth of his skin on hers. To inhale his gorgeous smell, or taste his lips against hers.

"The boss man misses you," Smurf told her. "You promised him you'd be home for Christmas this year."

"But I had to stay out there, Smurf, have you seen what it's like?"

"Let's see now, shall we?"

Smurf took hold of her hand, and suddenly everything changed. They weren't even in England anymore, but back in the midst of the warzone, shots firing around them. Molly instinctively ducked, glaring at Smurf for not doing the same. It reminded her of their tour together, when he was shot by Badrai and she had to plead for him to get down. But then she realised that this time no harm could come to them. They were as invisible as they had been before.

They walked away, taking a stroll through the nearby village, observing the daily activities of the residents. They were all going about their lives as though this was normal. They'd become so accustomed to the fighting, that it didn't even seem to faze them.

Smurf led Molly towards the local congregation, gathered around a bonfire. The chief church official was carrying the figure of the Christ Child, as the people sung hymns. It was a moving sight to watch. A 'Touch of Peace' carried forward to every person present at the Mass. Molly couldn't help but feel the painful irony.

"I didn't even realise Christmas was celebrated here," Molly stated, with undeniable guilt. "I just assumed…"

"Wrongly," Smurf interrupted. "They may be in a minority, but they are of no less importance. These people are innocents caught up in this war. Christmas is as of as much significance to them here, as it is to everyone back home."

Molly nodded shamefully. "What now?"

"Let's follow those kids." Smurf pointed towards two children, leaving the Mass and making their way towards one of the buildings.

The structure they called home was little more than a shack. The walls bore no insulation, the roof barely strapped in place. Inside, it was just one open room. Flimsy beds were squashed against walls, with no sign of running water or electricity. As heart breaking as it was, it was nothing new thing to Molly, or to the people that lived there.

The family gathered around a table for their Christmas lunch of chicken, nuts, pastries and oranges. Despite everything that surrounded them, they were happy. They didn't need nor want anything but the company of each other. No demand for extravagant gifts, or expensive displays of affection. They were simply grateful to be alive during the conflict.

A tear streamed down Molly's cheek. Growing up she was always the first one to moan that they had 'nothing'; but that wasn't true, and she knew it. Her parents had always kept a small amount of money back each month so that she and her siblings would have presents to open on Christmas Day. She'd always wanted more though, ungrateful for what she'd been given; regardless of the thought that had gone into it. But now, as she watched the scene before her eyes, she knew just how lucky she'd been.

"I guess hindsight's a wonderful thing."

"Exactly! That's why we're on this journey, Molly!"

Smurf grabbed her hand and whisked her back to England. Now they were standing back at her parents' house. The hideous décor had thankfully gone, leaving the family home Molly knew to exist today. Her whole family were gathered together, with music playing and the children merrily dancing. Dave was sat in front of the TV; unusually for him he'd even found a pair of trousers to wear. Belinda was naturally rushed off her feet, preparing the last of the food; whilst Nan stood chatting away to her, oblivious to her struggle.

"Here, Belinda!" Dave called. "Did you know it's snowing?"

"How would I know it's snowing? I'm stuck in the bleeding kitchen, slaving away for you lazy lot!"

Molly chuckled. Her family never changed, and she never wanted them to either. This was how she loved them. Endlessly winding each other up, but still utterly devoted.

"There's an empty seat," Smurf whispered in her ear. Molly was caught, staring out of the window at the glittering snow as it fell. It had been years since she'd seen snow, and it truly was a beautiful sight. She turned back to the table where her family had now gathered. Sure enough, one seat remained vacant.

"I don't understand why they've done that? I was gonna spend Christmas with Charles this year anyway."

"It's symbolises more than that though, Molls. It's there because you're still part of their family. Imagine if you'd decided to surprise them by coming home on Christmas Day. How pissed off would you have felt if there was no space for you?"

"But they don't even miss me, look at them!"

"Of course they miss you! Everyone misses you!" Smurf angrily snatched her hand, taking her back to the house where her day had begun. Charles' parents were clearing away the dishes, whilst Sam sat watching a film on the TV. His young face was contorted with pent-up emotion. Whatever he was watching was clearly of little comforting distraction.

"Sam wasn't here earlier."

"No," Smurf shook his head to confirm his words. "Rebecca dropped him off after lunch so he could spend some time with his dad."

"Where is he?"

Smurf nodded towards the ceiling, gesturing that he was upstairs. Molly hurried up, waltzing through the closed bedroom door. Inside, Charles stood, ripping down the decorations that he'd hung from the walls. Tears were streaming down his face.

"Charles!" She reached out for him, desperate to reassure him. But of course, she wasn't physically there and he knew nothing of her presence. "Why's he crying? What's happening?!"

"I told you earlier, he misses you, Moll," Smurf shrugged.

"But he was the one who kept telling me to go on more tours and complete whatever fucking journey I was supposedly on."

"He did, yeah, but that was because he wants the best for you; and that doesn't stop him from hurting. You weren't asked to stay out over Christmas, Molly, you volunteered. He'd spent every single second since you left, preparing for your return and now he's gutted."

"He said he didn't get emotionally involved."

"He loves you, Molly! How much more emotionally involved could he get?"

Molly stared at Smurf, tears welling in her eyes. "I love him too. But he knows just as well as you or I, that this is more than a job. We have a responsibility out there, to protect all of the innocent people, like that family and the congregation. They have a right to live and to be free. The only way we can do that is by capturing the insurgents."

"Capturing them?" Smurf took her hand and transported her back to the front line. There she was, still cowering behind the rock. Just as she raised her rifle, preparing to shoot, everything froze. "Capturing them, eh? How exactly are the bosses gonna glean potentially crucial information, from a dead man?"

"What just happened?"

"Ignorance and want," Smurf replied, avoiding the question. "You should be wary of them both, but the former above all else. If this course of events cannot be altered by the future, your ignorance shall turn to doom. You will die, Molly."

Within a split second, a mist gathered around her feet. A blink later, and it had pulled her under.


	4. Chapter 4

**I'm sorry in advance, but this is a bit of an emotional chapter**

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><p>"I will honour Christmas in my heart, and try to keep it all the year. I will live in the Past, the Present, and the Future. The Spirits of all Three shall strive within me. I will not shut out the lessons that they teach!"<p>

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><p>Molly landed on her knees, the surrounding mist feeling so full of gloom and mystery. Smurf stood, tall and stately beside her, his expression filled with solemn dread.<p>

"What I'm about to show you, are shadows of the things that have not happened, but will happen in the time before us."

Molly's legs trembled as she returned to her feet, her mind still caught in the previous words. An uncertain horror filled her. "Let's go then, let's go! Time must be precious now."

Smurf nodded in agreement, taking her hand and returning her to her home. Charles and Sam were sat on the floor together; busy assembling the bike that Sam had been given as a Christmas present from his grandparents. Mr and Mrs James were watching on, glasses of mulled wine in both of their hands.

To their bemusement there was a knock at the front door, causing them all to lift their heads with curiosity.

"Molly!" Charles jumped to his feet, excitement etched on his face. Sam ran to the front door, waiting for his father to open it.

"But Smurf," Molly said. "Even if I got a direct flight it would take several hours. How could I possibly be here?"

Smurf refused to speak, instead watching the scenes that unfolded before them. A smartly dressed Officer was stood at the door, flanked by a female soldier. Charles looked at them with uncertainty before inviting them in. He already knew that there must be something seriously wrong for their Christmas to be disturbed. Their serious expressions all but confirmed his worst fears.

"Captain James?" The man questioned. Charles simply nodded in response. "You are the Emergency Contact for Private Dawes?"

"What's happened?" Charles' voice audibly trembled.

"May we talk alone?" The soldier glanced at Sam, suggesting the news was unsuitable for his small ears.

"Sam, why don't you show Nanny and Granddad the Christmas tree we planted in the garden?"

As soon as the three of them had left the room, Charles turned back to the soldiers. A tear had already formed in his eye. He didn't need to be told. He was in the army long enough to know the protocol. But a small part of him was still holding out hope that this had all been a huge misunderstanding and that they weren't there for that reason at all.

"Would you like to take a seat?"

"What's happened to Molly?" Charles asked, lifting his reddening face.

"I'm afraid Private Dawes was killed in action earlier today."

Charles collapsed to the floor with a scream, his head falling in his hands. Molly ran over to him, placing an arm around his shoulders. She knew he couldn't feel it, but deep down part of her hoped that maybe he could sense her, know that she was there and still very much alive. Her heart was breaking as she watched him, hearing his cries. His whole body was shaking and there was nothing she could do.

Smurf reached for her hand, but Molly snatched it back. She wanted, needed to be there for him. She couldn't go; she couldn't walk away from him. But Smurf wasn't taking no for answer, and yet again, he grabbed her hand, and this time he wasn't letting go.

They landed with a thud at her parents' house. An officer was sat with the Dawes family, all visibly distressed. There wasn't a single decoration in sight. Dave was slouched on the sofa in nothing more than his underwear, a beer in his hand. Belinda was trying to be strong for the children, but it was obvious how much she was struggling to maintain her composure. Molly wiped the streaming tears from her eyes.

"This is one year on and they're still wrecked. Your dad went back to alcohol and spiralled outta control, so your mum had to quit her job at the school. The Visiting Officer is here quite a lot, offering as much support as possible."

"What about Charles? Does he ever come here?"

Smurf stared at Molly, before hesitantly taking her hand. Before them, Charles was curled on their bed, staring at her photo. "He's still grieving. He found it hard enough when Geraint and I died, but the pain he went through when he lost you was unbearable.

I'm sorry, Molls, but we need to go now; we're running out of time."

In an instant they were confronted by a scene entirely new to Molly. All of the buildings had been razed to the ground, a layer of dust covering everything. A smoke lingered, suffocating the air.

"Where are we?"

"Your death not only had a huge impact back home, but here as well. After you were shot, the fighting escalated. You were ordered to wait out, Molls. If you'd have just done what you were told, none of this would have happened."

Molly looked around. It truly was a scene of devastation that surrounded them. She wiped her tearful eyes, taking in the surroundings.

"I don't understand. I'm just a medic, a private. It's not like I'm the first soldier ever killed."

"No, but you were the first one who tried shooting the leader of the insurgency. Fucking hell, you're not even trained for that! Even if you had managed to kill him, you still would have angered the rest of them. Your mission was to capture him, Molly. What the fuck were you thinking?!"

"He was going to kill us," was all she could muster, her voice breaking.

"No he wasn't!" Smurf's face was full of anger and frustration. "Do you still not understand the whole point of this journey?"

Molly could only shrug.

"We visited your past Christmases because I wanted you to remember who you were; the events that created the strong willed, independent Molly Dawes that we all know and love. The Christmas present was because I needed you to see how happy you've made everyone's lives. Your family and the boss man all miss you, but they understand and support you. The people that live here were simply grateful to be alive, and that was because the armed forces had maintained control of the area. But now we're here, in the future, and I'm trying to show you the fallout. Everything in life has consequences, Moll."

Smurf took her limp hand, squeezing it in an attempt to comfort her. But Molly was too distressed by the realisation that he was of course right. She should have listened to Charles about trusting those higher in the chain of command to see the bigger picture. But she hadn't, she'd just got caught in the situation and done what she'd thought was right in that moment.

"I want to leave, Smurf. I've learnt my lesson, please, I want to go home."

"I love you, Dawesy," Smurf said, pulling her into an embrace. Molly held onto him firmly, desperate not to let go. She could feel him vanishing away, so pulled him closer and tighter, until it was no use anymore, and he simply disappeared from within her grasp. Once again, the air turned bitterly cold, and Molly readily closed her eyes. It was time to go back now.

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><p><strong>AN 1 The Casualty Notification Officer is always the minimum rank of a Captain. They are selected based upon who is immediately available and within a reasonable travelling distance, so that the next of kin can be informed as soon as possible. In cases of death, a male casualty notification officer is accompanied by a female.**

**A/N 2 The Casualty Visiting Officer provides the long-term support and advice to the next of kin. They remain in the post for the foreseeable future.**


	5. Chapter 5

**I'm afraid this is the final chapter of this story. Thank you to everyone who has favourited, followed, read and reviewed this story, I've been overwhelmed by the response. I hope you all have a very Merry Christmas xx**

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><p>"There is nothing in the world so irresistibly contagious as laughter and good humor."<p>

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><p>Molly collapsed behind the rock, her eyes wet with tears. She was so happy to be back to reality, that she'd all but forgotten the situation she'd returned to.<p>

She hesitantly glanced over, staring into the eyes of the enemy. She watched as he raised his gun in her direction, quickly dropping just before the shot was fired. It whizzed over her head, causing a vibration to travel through her body; finally coming to a halt in a nearby tree. She shuddered, realising that it was that same bullet that had been destined to kill her.

Within seconds - maybe minutes she wasn't sure - more army personnel began appearing and the insurgents were surrounded. It was all over within a flash, and just like that, the mission was accomplished. It had felt like literally days since they'd left the base. But for the other members of the platoon – now busy high fiving one another for a job well done – it has been mere hours.

They made their way back soon after, discovering sacks full of Christmas parcels awaiting their return. The Corporal handed them all out swiftly; some soldiers receiving several. Molly took her two and retreated to a quiet corner behind the ops tent. She opened the one from her family first; shaking her head with laughter at what her mum had sent. More nail varnish and chocolates were amongst the completely impractical gifts.

She reached for the parcel Charles had sent, and immediately smiled. The first thing she'd seen as she opened it was a photo of him and Sam in Santa's Grotto, their beaming faces instantly warming her heart. She picked it up for a closer look, spotting several boxes of mince pies underneath. He knew her too well.

Once the platoon had finished eating their distinctly average roast dinner, Molly handed out a mince pie to everyone. It was a small treat, but raised vague smiles from her comrades. It was the hardest day of the year for them to be away from home. Grown men had been reduced to tears by the knowledge that they would not be seeing their children open their presents on Christmas Day. The parcels from home had only seemed to make it worse, reminding them of what they were missing.

Most of the soldiers volunteered to go on patrol after lunch, welcoming the much needed distraction. Molly stared at the one complete box of mince pies that remained, deciding to put it inside her Bergen just before they left.

The platoon made their way through the village, wandering the streets as people hurried to and fro. With her Corporal's permission, Molly approached the house she'd visited with Smurf. Of course the family had no idea who she was, and simply stared at her in stunned silence as approached, offering them the box.

"Please take them. Merry Christmas." She wasn't even sure if they understood her, but nonetheless, they gratefully accepted them with a nod and a smile. That was all the thanks she needed.

It was difficult not being at home with everyone, but Molly was thankful that at least she would be going home alive. She only had one month left of her extension, and she was already counting down the days.

* * *

><p>"When can I open my presents?" Sam asked, tugging on his father's sleeve.<p>

"I already told you, scamp, after lunch," Charles replied, ruffling his hair. "Nanny and Granddad will be here soon, so just be patient."

Sam turned to Molly with a sly grin. "Just one, Molly, please?"

Molly found it difficult to say no, especially when he turned on the puppy dog eyes. But Charles had been adamant. He'd had enough trouble convincing Rebecca to allow them to take Sam for the whole weekend, that he was determined everything would go exactly as planned. He'd even banned Molly from the kitchen, but she suspected that this was more because he didn't trust her cooking abilities. She couldn't personally see what was wrong with using the microwave.

Just as she was about to apologise to Sam, there was a knock at the front door. Molly quickly tidied her appearance as Charles opened the door, fully expecting to see Mr and Mrs James. But instead she watched on as all of her siblings ran in, followed closely by her parents. She hugged them all one by one.

"What are you lot doing here?"

"Ask him," Belinda nodded towards Dave. "He only told me last night after I'd done all the bloody shopping."

Charles quickly ducked into the kitchen but Molly spotted him out of the corner of her eye. "Oi! Did you plan this?"

"Maybe," Charles replied sheepishly, a smile creeping across his face. "You weren't home for Christmas last year so I wanted to make this year extra special."

Molly wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling his closer. "I love you."

"Ditto," he replied, placing a single, delicate kiss on her lips.

Charles retreated to set the dining room table, leaving Molly to open the door for his parents who arrived soon after. They came baring several bottles of mulled wine and one large gift for Sam.

"Lovely to see you, dear," Mrs James said, greeting her with a kiss on the cheek. Mr James gently touched her shoulder by way of acknowledgement as he made his way through to his son.

Sam was happily playing with her younger siblings, and her mum and Mrs James soon began chatting away. It really was the perfect Christmas already. She was all too aware that it could have been the complete opposite.

Lunch was soon served, the incredible smell filling the house. Somehow Charles had managed to find enough space to set the table for all thirteen of them. She'd always wondered why he'd insisted on buying such a large table when it was only the two of them most of the time. He must have been planning to have everyone over for some time. Though she couldn't help but wonder where all of the extra chairs had come from, as they certainly hadn't purchased _that_ many.

She stared at the beautifully decorated table with a beaming smile, waiting patiently as the food was passed from one person to another. It was no wonder Charles had banned her from the kitchen. She would have sussed as soon as she'd seen how much food there was.

"Merry Christmas, everyone!" Sam said, jumping up from his seat.

Everyone nodded in agreement and raised their glasses in a toast. "Merry Christmas!"

After all becoming suitably stuffed, they gathered around the tree, sharing their gifts out. Mr and Mrs James had kindly bought chocolates reindeers for all of Molly's siblings. It was a thoughtful gesture and one that she greatly appreciated. Sam quickly ripped open his own present from his grandparents, his face gaping open when he saw that he'd been given a bike. Molly recognised it; after all, she'd already seen it. But she enthusiastically smiled, informing Sam that his dad would help him to assemble it later.

They continued on until just one gift remained under the tree, addressed to Molly. She swiftly unwrapped it, revealing a large cardboard box. She opened it up carefully, finding a slightly smaller box inside. She pulled that one out, again opening it carefully, only to find yet another box inside. This process continued until Molly opened the fifth and final one. For inside that one was a small silver box.

She opened it gently, revealing a beautiful platinum ring; the single diamond glittering as it caught the light. She looked up to Charles, finding him knelt before her. She choked with tears, holding her hand to her mouth.

"Molly Dawes, will you marry me?"

* * *

><p><strong><em><span>My thoughts are with all of our servicemen and women all over the world, who won't be home for Christmas<span> _**


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